CHAPTER IX.

HOW MAJOR ROGER POTTER GOT HIS DINNER, MADE AN EXCHANGE OF CHICKENS,

AND TOOK LEAVE OF MRS. TROTBRIDGE.

HAD Major Roger Potter been as well qualified to take advantage of a

political necessity, as the cunning quality of his gallantry in this

instance fully testified, he was to get the better in a matter of

trade, he had never fallen from so high an estate as that of

defending the nation's honor to that of selling tin ware and shoe

pegs.

The major, saying he had an inert sympathy for the humble, and that

nothing had so much pleased him as to do Mrs. Trotbridge service,

now commenced to set her table, which he did with the familiarity of

a good housewife, while the anxious woman bestirred herself in

preparing dinner, expressing her doubts as she did so, that her

efforts would not meet our expectations. Suddenly remembering that I

was so great a politician, the good woman, having made sundry

inquiries concerning my wants, bethought herself that I would like a

book to while away the time; so, leaving her stew pan in charge of

the Major, who, having set the table with great exactness, was

seated upon a small stool at the fireside, beating the doughnut

batter in a bowl on his lap, she proceeded to a small book-rack over

a window, and brought me a copy of Elder Boomer's last sermons, the

reading of which she was fully assured in her own mind would

interest me.

The major interposed (wiping his portentous belly, which had become

disfigured with batter,) by saying that seeing the book advertised

by the publishers (who were men of truth in all matters concerning

their trade) as the greatest of recently published works, he got a

copy for Mrs. Potter, who declared it a wonderful book, and had lent

it to all the neighbors, who had read it until nothing would do but

they must get up a religious revival. Indeed, if things kept on as

they were going, there would soon not be a sinner left in the region

round about Barnstable, such a change had the book worked in the

pious feelings of the good people. I seated myself beside a window

that overlooked the little garden, and turned over the leaves of the

book, affecting to be deeply interested in it, but really listening

to an interesting colloquy that was being kept up between the good

woman and the major, at whose side several little flaxen headed

urchins had crouched down, and with an air of paternal regard,

watched intently in his face as he compounded the batter with so

much force and energy, that at least one half it was lost in

spatters over their features. And while doing this, so eager was the

major to ascertain the exact state of Mrs. Trotbridge's affairs,

that the increase of her pigs and poultry formed a prominent feature

in his inquiries. She had let her little farm of thirty acres out on

shares to neighbor Zack Slocum, who was esteemed the best

crop-getter this side of the crossroads. The peach trees, of which

she had seven ranged along the little picket fence round the garden,

gave no very strong evidence of doing much, while the cherry tree

over the well was touched with blight; but for all that she felt

that providence would in some way enable her to scrape up fruit

enough to get over the winter. What was deficient in one part of the

country was made up by the plenty of another. She had recently,

however, felt a great drawback in the bad times consequent upon the

policy of the present administration. At last she had been told it

was the folks in power at Washington who had made times so hard,

that the wealthy manufacturer for whom she "binded" the shoes her

boys stitched, could only give two cents a pair, where formerly he

gave two and a half. But the cunning fellow, who was the sharpest

kind of a straight Whig, said if they got their side in at the next

election, he would come back to old prices, with cash instead of

store pay. Mrs. Trotbridge hoped it might be so, for the half cent

was a serious loss to a family so humble. But she was at a loss to

account how it was that if times were so hard, the manufacturer, who

could not afford to pay old prices, wanted a greater number of shoes

bound, and would hurry her life out to have them done in less time

than it were possible to do them.

The good woman, considering herself honored by such military and

political greatness, spread her table with fried bacon and new laid

eggs, and the cold pork and beans left over from yesterday, a few

shavings of dried beef, currant jelly of the most tempting kind,

doughnuts, hot and fresh out of the bacon fat, and bread made of

wheat raised on the two acre patch across the road, and to which she

added a cup of tea so delicate in flavor that it would have made a

Dutch grandmother return thanks to the East India Company. In truth

there was a snowy whiteness in the table linen, and a nicety and

freshness of flavor in the viands one only finds at a country house

in New England, and which those accustomed to the "hudgey smudgey"

cooking at the great hotels of cities cannot appreciate.

The good woman regretted that she could not add a mug of cider, for

since the temperance folks had shut up the tavern kept by General

Aldrich, at the village, travelers with a taste for that article had

to thirst and keep on to Barnstable. "May heaven vouchsafe you

plenty of such good fare," said the major, taking his seat at the

head of the table, as we drew up and engaged the bacon and eggs with

appetites that were sharpened to the keenest edge. And so fiercely

did the major gorge himself, showing no respect for the last piece

upon any plate, that the little urchins, who had occupied seats at

the table, began to gaze upon him with wonder and astonishment, and

to slink away, one after another, to relieve their pent up mirth.

Indeed, so formidable was the onset he made upon the bacon and eggs,

that I found it necessary to withdraw after the first fire, lest the

good hostess be compelled to call her frying pan into use a second

time. Having finished the humble but grateful meal, we proceeded, at

the desire of the major, to examine the pig and poultry yard. Her

two cows, she said, twitching her head in satisfaction, had had fine

thriving calves, and the old sow had a nice increase of fifteen

little spotted rascals, as round and plump as foot-balls. As for

poultry, the only kind that had not done well was her turkeys. And

of this there was visible testimony in four dyspeptic young ones

that walked sleepily around two old ones, kept up a very ill-natured

whimpering, and in addition to being featherless were quite as much

bedowned as the face of a freshman. The major, who had a remedy for

everything, set at once to prescribing for their distempers, which

he swore by his military reputation they could be purged of by

taking homopathic pills dissolved in the smallest quantity of

Wistar's Balsam of Wild Cherry. He had not the slightest doubt but

that by following up this course of medicine a sufficient length of

time, the ill-feathered patients would be restored to a happy state

of health, and become popular fowls at the poultry show. The

medicine was as harmless as need be, though extremely expensive.

There was a satisfaction, however, in knowing that their valuable

lives could in no way be endangered by an over dose.

Expressing his entire satisfaction with the appearance of Mrs.

Trotbridge's poultry, the major fastened his keen eyes upon six fine

black feet pullets, the possession of which he at once began to

covet. And to that end did he proceed to discourse on the value of

Shanghais, inviting Mrs. Trotbridge, at the same time, to take a

peep at the rare lot of that breed of chickens he had in the coop.

The good woman followed him to his wagon, where he dismounted his

coop, and revealed as scurvy a lot of chickens as eye ever rested

upon, all of which he swore by his military reputation, would come

to rare Shanghais, and get big enough to eat off barrel-heads in

less than two months. Indeed, such was the wonderful account given

of these fowls by our hero, that the simple-minded woman would have

pledged her farm for no more than a pair. "La's me! do tell. Eat off

barrel heads in two months! Mean flour barrels, I 'spose?"

ejaculated the good woman, drawlingly, as her urchins gathered

round, peering eagerly in through the slats of the coop.

"Just so," returned the major; "know a chicken of this breed that

grew so tall, that he would follow wagons going to mill, and feed

out of the hind end." In reply to an inquiry as to how she could

become the owner of a pair, money being a scarce article with her

just now, the major said he would, in view of his anxiety to do her

service, let her pick two, for which he would take in exchange the

six black feet pullets. For this profession of his generosity, the

good woman returned a thousand thanks; and the black feet were

forthwith transferred to the major's coop, while she took possession

of what she esteemed a rare prize.

Finding there was no more to be made of his generous hostess, the

boys harnessed old Battle, and taking leave of her with divers

expressions of friendship and regret, we mounted and proceeded on

our journey, four urchins clinging to the tail of the wagon,

cheering at the top of their voices until we had lost sight of the

house.

The Life and Adventures of Maj. Roger Sherman Potter · 第 9 / 60 章